


Party and Bullshit

by Hllangel



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: (even if they're dumb idiots and don't talk about it), (it's not completely happy), Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, and sex while still partly drunk, past relationship, references to drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hllangel/pseuds/Hllangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you doing here?" Nick asks. </p><p>"It's a big number, Nick. I had to be here." He raises a hand and sets it on Nick's face, thumb just on the corner of Nick's mouth. What Harry really wants to do is kiss him, but he's not really sure if that's on the table. Sure, Nick kisses most of his friends on a fairly regular basis, but does Harry count as one of them? Friend yes, but they'd never quite been just friends, even if they'd never really said they were more either. And Harry really doesn't want to call himself an ex-anything, since it really does seem that Nick is moving on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Party and Bullshit

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the vague hope that Harry would somehow show up at Nick's party since they've got the day off. Unbeta'ed or britpicked, so all mistakes are mine. Title from Rita Ora's _How we do_. 
> 
> This is a work of fiction based on the lives and likenesses of real people. If you are one of them and you're reading this I'm so, so sorry. Please turn around.

Niall's waiting when Harry finishes what is probably his fastest post-show shower ever. Including from back when they were crammed into the X-Factor house and had to share a few bathrooms with way too many other people. 

"You sure about this?" 

"No," Harry says, because it's the truth. He's barely got thirty six hours off, and instead of getting on the buses like everyone else for the drive to Detroit, he's borrowing the Azoff's plane and pilot and flying to London. "But it's Grimmy's thirtieth. I have to be there." 

The thing is, even though Harry had received his invite like everyone else, no one actually expects him to be able to make it. He's on tour in America, and they only really have one night off from the shows. He's already sent his present and a card ahead to Aimee, not trusting Nick not to open it ahead of time, and they'd spent half an hour or so on the phone yesterday, on Nick's actual birthday. By then he'd already decided that he was coming, but just before he'd been about to say as much, he'd decided that it should be a surprise, and the weight of it has been sitting on his chest ever since, making him giddy and breathless. 

It's just a party. A huge party for a big, round-numbered birthday, but it's just a party. Harry's missed dozens of Nick's parties due to his travel schedule, but being able to be at this one would mean _something_. Harry's having a hard time fitting the words of exactly what together in his head. 

It's too big for words, really. 

Instead, he hugs Niall once he's shimmied into his most comfortable jeans for traveling, picks up his bag and heads towards the back exit to the stadium where his car is waiting for him. There's two bags of McDonalds on the seat, and Harry swallows a sleeping pill with the last of his chips. He's asleep before the plane even takes off. 

The original plan is for Harry to go home first, get ready for the party on his own and surprise Nick when he walks in the door. Now that he's actually in London, driving around in a car with blacked out windows, no one screaming or following him, and just his driver for company (he's very nice, though), Harry knows it's the wrong decision. Nick _hates_ surprises, and even though this is a good one, he thinks, it's not fair to do that to him in front of hundreds of people. 

Also, now that he's actually in London, he really wants to see Nick. So he leans forward and gives Nick's address, and only then realizes that he might be somewhere else to get ready. Unlikely, though. It's more likely that Nick's got a few people over at his first. Gillian probably. Aimee and Ian. Collette. Maybe Henry. Billy, who Harry's not actually met yet, but Nick talks about him a lot. 

He's not wanted to surprise Nick in front of hundreds of people, but is it a better tradeoff to be doing it in front of Nick's closest friends? Harry doesn't figure it out by the time the car is pulling up in front of Nick's house, so he just plays with his keys (Nick's key) before getting out of the car and quickly walking in. Might as well just go for it. 

The door's not locked when he tries the handle, so he just pulls it open and steps inside, lingering in the doorway where no one can see him for a minute. He's pretty much spot on for the people here, it seems. Harry can hear everyone over the thumping music, Nick loudest of them all. 

Harry's heart starts stuttering like he's just come off stage when he realizes the full extent of what he's just done. No one expects him to be here, he's supposed to be on a bus an ocean and then some away, not lurking in Nick's doorway like some sort of lurking creature. He used to cross oceans for Nick, used to seek him out every chance he got, but something had changed last summer and Harry's not quite sure what it is. He still considers Nick to be one of his best friends, of course, he probably always will. But now, even when Harry is in London, they don't get to see each other as much. Sure, they're both busy, but it's more than that. Harry hates that he can't figure it out. 

Maybe that's why he's done this. He needs to know what happened. 

"Was there someone at the door?" Nick asks. Harry drops his bag and nudges it into the corner just as Aimee comes around the wall from the living room and freezes. 

"Hiya," he says, for lack of anything else. 

She's got a drink in her hand but manages not to spill a drop as she all but launches herself at Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

"We didn't think you were coming," she says, when she pulls back. 

"I didn't think I was either, but I couldn't miss it. Had to borrow a friend's plane, and I have to leave early in the morning but I'm here now." He bites his lip, unable to put the why into words. 

Aimee smiles at him. "Rich bastard," she says before kissing him on the cheek.

"What's going on Aims?" Nick calls. "Has someone killed you?" 

"Come on. Time to stop lurking in doorways." She takes Harry's hand and leads him into the living room, the heart of the party, Nick. "Look who I found lurking in your doorway." 

Nick goes still when he sees Harry, but he shakes himself out of it quickly enough, face splitting into his biggest smile. Harry stumbles across to where Nick is and hugs him, because now that they're face to face, he can't quite find words. "Missed you," is all he can say as he squeezes a bit tighter. 

"I fucking hate surprises," Nick says when he lets go, but he's still smiling, so Harry's going to count that as a win. "But I'm glad you're here. There's drinks and food in the kitchen." 

Harry lets himself get passed around a bit more once Nick's done with him, hugging Ian and Gellz and Collette. He introduces himself to Billy and Michael and chats a bit. He learns that Alexa and Daisy are coming over in a bit, as is Henry. All told it's another ten minutes before he can escape to the kitchen and then out into the back garden for a bit of fresh air. 

Now that he's here, he's not leaving, but he may have made a mistake coming in the first place. Well, that's not quite the case. He'll never regret getting to spend time with Nick, but with the tight time frame, the fact that it's Nick's birthday weekend, and the fact that he'll be surrounded all night, Harry feels more than a bit selfish to think he'd expected to have any time alone with him at all. Maybe he should just go back to his own house until the party tonight.

He's fiddling with his phone and contemplating calling his driver when Nick slips out into the garden with him. He looks long and lean and _good_ , his hair falling down over his forehead in a sort of swoopy thing, and Harry holds his breath for a minute taking it in. He's still trying to process the fluttering of his stomach when Nick slides an arm around his waist and pulls him in. Harry headbutts him in the shoulder, but only a little bit, and lets himself be tugged closer. 

"What are you doing here?" Nick asks. 

"It's your birthday." Harry pulls back so he can see Nick's face. The wide smile has fallen away, replaced by his lopsided half-smirk. "Most important day ever." 

"That is true, but I really didn't think you'd be able to come." 

"Having friends with private planes and pilots helps a bit." 

" _Friends_ with _private jets_." He's only mocking Harry a tiny bit, really, so Harry lets the comment go. 

"It's a big number, Nick. I had to be here." He raises a hand and sets it on Nick's face, thumb just on the corner of Nick's mouth. What Harry really wants to do is kiss him, but he's not really sure if that's on the table. Sure, Nick kisses most of his friends on a fairly regular basis, but does Harry count as one of them? Friend yes, but they'd never quite been just friends, even if they'd never really said they were more either. And Harry really doesn't want to call himself an ex-anything, since it really does seem that Nick is moving on. 

Nick makes the decision for him, leaning closer and brushing his lips over Harry's, hardly more than a friendly peck. Harry's eyes flutter closed and he tries to follow Nick when he pulls away, but it's a lost cause, because Nick is letting go of his waist at the same time. "I am glad you're here, Haz," he says before he goes back inside. 

Harry stays out in the garden, trying to soak up what little overcast warmth he can get, trying to settle himself a bit. It had most definitely been a mistake to come here, but there's no way he can leave now. 

Eventually, after he's drained his drink and crunched away most of the ice, he goes back inside. There's fewer people now, and Harry guesses that everyone's splitting up in order to go get dressed for later. Harry realizes that he has nothing in his small bag appropriate for the party, since he had meant to go to his first. Instead, he seeks out Nick, still at the center of everything as always, and drops down on the sofa next to him. He resists the urge to lean closer and press against Nick's side by a slim margin. He settles for just his foot. It gets Nick's attention. 

"Can I borrow a shirt? I've a spare pair of jeans with me but I haven't got anything else." 

"Your house isn't that far," Nick says. 

Harry just looks at him and tries to make his eyes to that thing that makes teenage girls go nuts. He's never sure if he's got it exactly right unless someone is screaming at him, but it seems to work because Nick laughs, and knocks his shoulder into Harry's. 

"Alright! Go ahead, then." Harry grins. 

He grabs his bag from the hallway and moves through Nick's bedroom and into the ensuite, where he starts to strip so he can take a shower. Private jet or not, flying is gritty and always leaves Harry feeling like his skin is on a bit too tight. 

Nick comes in when he's lathering his hair up with Nick's shampoo, piling it on top of his head in spikes. 

"You're taking a shower." 

Harry pulls back the curtain and grins at him. "Yeah. Join me." 

"I've already had my hair done." 

Harry flicks some water at him and laughs as Nick dodges out of the way, his hair springing back into place when he's done. It is piled higher than when Nick does it himself. "What if I promised not to get your hair wet?" 

It's a stupid promise, though, because the steam is damaging enough to hair like theirs when it's been styled. Nick just shakes his head and leaves, leaving Harry alone. He quickly rinses and conditions his hair, trying not to think about how he'll end up smelling like Nick probably all the way through until he gets back to Detroit with the tour. 

The flat is quiet when Harry steps out. There's still music playing, because Nick is never without some sort of music, but there's no other voices, so Harry wanders out of Nick's bedroom with just his towel around his hips, hair still dripping down his shoulders. 

Harry finds Nick in the conservatory easily enough, thumbing through his phone and half dancing along to Beyonce, and Harry is about to join in when he realizes that they're _alone_. They are actually all by themselves for some stretch of time, when he hadn't expected to get two minutes. Harry comes up behind him and slides his hands over Nick's shoulders.

"I missed you," Harry says when the track fades out. 

"I know," Nick says. Harry tries not to notice how Nick doesn't say it back. They've never quite been on even grounds when it comes to sentimental things, and Harry usually doesn't mind, because Nick's good at saying things without saying them. He still texts Harry stupid jokes and dumb stories of what Finchy's messed up in the studio. Still answers his phone when Harry forgets about time zones and calls him at midnight on weeknights. 

All the same, Harry needs to hear it tonight. He's taken his day off to spend half of it on planes and half of it at a party where he'll get next to no face time with Nick, and he needs to know that Nick understands why. 

"Nick," Harry says, voice low. He's trying not to sound like he's begging, but not entirely sure he's succeeded. 

"Harry." Nick's hand comes up to grab Harry's own and pull him around, so that they're face to face. Nick is still sitting, and Harry bumps their toes together as he settles. His eyes catch the _Enjoy_ sign, glowing bright blue in the corner and Harry remembers how easy the decision to buy it had been. Just because they'd been out at a gallery and it had caught Nick's eye. Everything had been so easy then. 

It should still be easy now, because as far as Harry knows, nothing's changed. Harry is still gone for most of the year, but that hadn't ever been a problem. Distance had never mattered when Harry was always coming back. Always coming home to _Nick_. He steps closer and straddles Nick's hips, bringing one hand up to cup his face so he can kiss him like he's been wanting to do since he got here. 

Like he's been wanting to do for the months they've barely seen each other. 

He's careful to avoid digging his fingers into Nick's quiff and ruining it, but that doesn't stop him from holding on to the back of Nick's head and licking his way into Nick's mouth. Harry groans into to easy familiarity. For just this moment maybe he can pretend that nothing's gone sour. Sour's not quite the right word for what they are right now, though they're definitely not the same as they were. 

Nick is kissing him back, though, digging his hands into Harry's lower back and holding him close. Harry wants him to tug the towel away, to get his hands on Harry's slowly hardening dick, to act like they have all the time in the world, even when Nick is hosting the party tonight. 

Harry arches his back and shimmies a bit, trying to get the tightly tucked towel to fall away on it's own since Nick isn't helping it, but Nick pulls back and puts a hand on Harry's chest, holding him back instead of pulling him close like Harry wants. 

Harry frowns, and very deliberately doesn't move his hand from Nick's head. 

"Don't," Nick says. 

"I'm being careful with your hair." Harry curls his fingers at the back of Nick's neck to demonstrate that he's going nowhere near Nick's mostly-perfect quiff. 

Nick looks out the windows. "That's not what I mean." He reaches up to rake a hand through his hair, the gesture so familiar to Harry, but stops halfway there, remembering that it's actually been styled. "Why are you here? You never come back here anymore." 

Harry slumps, but doesn't let go. Nick's hands don't move either. "Of course I do. I'm here all the time." 

Nick turns from the window to look at him, all traces of a smile have fallen off his face. That's Harry's fault. _He's_ done that. Nick looks so miserable and Harry aches with it. Of course he's been back in London a lot recently, he's been touring the UK and Europe. He'd stayed for most of the break before America for Jay's wedding, before going out to LA for a few days of sun before tour started again. 

"No, you're not. Not when you don't have work." 

Harry's never heard Nick this quiet before. Well, sometimes in bed after, when they'd lay close half whispering into each other's mouths as they came down, but that had been different. They'd been quiet in those moments because they hadn't needed to be any louder, speaking nonsense to each other, words not meant to travel farther than the edges of the bed. 

This is a different sort of quiet. Nick sounds hurt, like he'd barely let the words escape in the first place, and like he's holding onto a lot more. His fingers are digging into Harry's hips, and for once it doesn't feel good. 

"I --" He's about to protest what Nick is saying, but then he realizes that there's some truth to it. He still thinks of London as home, but he hasn't been here when he's not working for months. Not since he'd finally found a house out in Los Angeles and started the paperwork to buy it. The longest stretch he'd been home since January was after they finished in Europe, when he'd stayed for Jay's wedding. 

Not for Nick. He'd seen Nick but he hadn't stayed behind for him. _Fuck_ , he's been stupid. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He wants to lean in and kiss him again, but Nick's hand is still on his chest, pushing him away. 

Nick blinks a few times and pushes Harry again, so that Harry stumbles off his lap, and Nick stands up. "Go get dressed. There's a party happening." And then Nick sweeps out of the room leaving Harry alone and nearly naked in the soft sunlight from the windows. He goes back to the bedroom and gets dressed quickly. 

When he comes back out, Nick is smiling again like nothing happened, and they're not left on their own for long. 

Harry's in the car with Nick and Collette on their way to Shoreditch House, but while they get out right in front, Harry asks the driver to pull around the corner and leave him there, so he can walk in separately and hopefully not be spotted by the paps hanging around outside. No one's expecting him to be here, so hopefully they won't be looking. He thinks it works, but only because Rita walks in at the same time in a fluorescent and flashy outfit, drawing all eyes and cameras to her. Harry will say hello later, once he's safely inside and has a drink. 

He spends most of the party in a wide orbit around Nick, chatting to the people he knows, dancing a bit, watching the show. It's definitely a good party, exactly the type of blowout that Nick deserves for a big year like a thirtieth. Harry tries not to notice how Nick's closest friends keep circling back to him, looking over at Harry every so often, at least for the first few hours before everyone starts to get really drunk. He's not drinking too much because he has to get up early to fly back, and he doesn't want to be too miserable on the plane or for the show. 

When the party itself ends somewhere around three, Harry follows everyone back to Henry's house for the after party. He hasn't specifically been invited, but no one is kicking him out, either. Whether it's because they're alright with him being there, or just too polite to tell him no, he's not sure, but he's not going to ask, either. There's more drinks and more dancing and Henry's somehow got hold of karaoke equipment, but Harry doesn't take a turn on it. 

Everyone starts to drift apart, yawning widely around six, when the Sun's just coming up. Nick and Daisy are holding on to each other waiting for their car, and Harry stumbles into the back of it with them, tumbling back out when it pulls up at Nick's flat. He's got two hours before he has to leave. 

Nick looks tired, and he's still a little bit drunk, but he's holding on to Harry again, and Harry gently takes the keys from him to unlock the door and let them inside. He carefully latches the door and leaves the keys on the hall table, and guides Nick inside, to his bed. 

Harry gently kisses the back of Nick's neck as he pushes him down, face first, and goes to remove Nick's boots. With how things were earlier, he's not sure he should do more, even though sleeping in his suit is probably not going to be comfortable. Nick solves the problem by turning over and sitting up, shedding his jacket off to the side. He reaches a hand out and Harry goes easily, twining his fingers together and laying down and moving until they're on their sides facing each other. 

Nick moves first, which is a good thing because Harry's not sure how much he's allowed right now. He scoots closer and hooks his leg over Harry's, drawing him in and kissing him. He's demanding, stronger and more deliberate than he should be, given that Harry had literally poured him into bed a few moments ago. It also feels a little bit desperate, with Nick gripping his shoulder and biting at his lips. Harry opens for him easily, rolling onto his back so Nick can come closer, settle between Harry's legs like they used to. 

In the thin dawn light, it feels so easy to draw Nick closer, to wrap his legs around Nick's hips and rock up against him. Nick bites at his neck, gently, so he doesn't leave a mark. They've always been so careful, but Harry doesn't want careful tonight. He wants Nick to _know_ that they're here, that Harry had flown halfway around the world for just a few hours. Wants it to be seen in all the pictures and video of their next show. He leans his head back, and threads his fingers through Nick's ruined hair to guide him back. "Do it, Nick," he says. 

Nick doesn't argue, and Harry squirms under his mouth, breathing hard and wanting this to last forever. He's gone so achingly hard, dick trapped up against his hip and he can feel Nick's own. Harry wants to get his hands on Nick, burrow through the layers of clothing between them and feel Nick's skin under his fingers. He slips his hands up under Nick's shirt, at the base of his spine and waits for Nick to be done with his neck. 

Harry rocks up against Nick a few more times, and then pulls back as far as he can so he can meet Nick's eyes when he asks, "Can I fuck you?" 

Nick stills, but he doesn't pull away, so Harry trails his fingers over the base of Nick's spine to feel his full body shiver, to watch his eyes half-close as Harry gets it right. Harry's stomach surges with pleasure, knowing that he's doing something good, this time. "Please?" 

He looks almost sad for a minute, but then Nick ducks down and kisses Harry again, and it's sweet and slow. "How long have we got?" 

Harry has to look at the clock next to Nick's bed. He's got an alarm set on his phone for when he needs to be in a cab on his way back to the airport, but he's been counting down in his head as well. "Hour and a half. Can maybe make it two." 

Nick nods, and Harry smiles, letting his dimples show in order to make Nick laugh. They used to laugh so easily in bed, and Harry misses that. He misses a lot of things. God, he's been stupid. It works though, and Nick smiles before leaning down to kiss him. 

They each undress themselves, and Harry takes an extra minute to fish lube and condoms out of Nick's bedside drawer, leaving them on the pillows as he kneels over Nick. They don't have forever, but the have enough time that Harry doesn't go straight for Nick's cock. He toys with Nick's chest hair for a bit, kissing his neck and working his way down Nick's torso. He licks away the wet smears Nick's dick is leaving against his belly and moves down to bite at the soft skin of Nick's thighs. 

He's done this so many times before, he's so familiar with Nick's reactions, but it feels new at the same time, there's a desperate edge to the morning that's not from how long it's been since they've had sex. For Harry, at least, this is about the fact that Nick is letting him back into his bed, even after he'd fucked up so badly without even thinking. He needs to reacquaint himself with every inch of Nick's skin before he has to leave again. 

Harry moves closer in and hitches Nick's legs up over his shoulders, holding his hips down. He has to be careful with this, since he has to sing later tonight, but he can at least give Nick a little bit. Carefully, he takes Nick's dick into his hand and closes his mouth around the tip, feeling it twitch up into the contact. Nick is grabbing his hair now, but he's not doing anything other than holding on. 

"Fuck, Haz --" Nick sounds pretty wrecked, the way he always does after a long night out, and Harry wants him to lose his voice completely. He flattens his tongue against Nick's dick and sucks harder, using his hand to compensate for the way he can't take Nick all the way down his throat right now. Harry pulls away when Nick keeps trying to thrust up and into his mouth, even though Harry wants to let him. 

Instead, he abandons Nick's dick and kisses and bites his way further down until he has to spread Nick's legs a bit more so he can push in closer and lick at Nick's rim. At the first touch of his tongue, Nick grabs his own legs and pulls them up, giving Harry easier access. Once Nick starts to relax into it, Harry reaches for the lube (helped by Nick since it's actually out of his reach), and slicks up his fingers, fumbling a bit to close the bottle with his now-slick hand. 

He gets one finger into Nick easily, but has to leave off rimming him when he gets Lube in his mouth, which doesn't taste great. He licks Nick's thigh to try to get the taste out, replace it with the salt from Nick's skin. Nick laughs at him. 

"Heyyyy," Harry says, but he crawls up to lay alongside him and kiss him while he fingers Nick open. The angle is a bit awkward on his hand, but it's worth it to feel Nick fall apart with his fingers and his mouth at the same time. 

Harry is feeling more than a bit desperate and shaky as he rips open a condom packet with his teeth, sliding it down his dick with shaking hands. He falls back into position easily enough, the head of his dick pushing slightly at Nick's rim, but he doesn't make a move to push in just yet. 

Instead, he leans down and kisses Nick gently, long and slow, keeping them on the edge as long as he can. 

"Have you got cold feet or sommat?" Nick asks. His voice is gentle though, and he reaches up to sweep Harry's hair out of his face. 

"No," Harry says. Because it's definitely not that. It's just that there's something heavy sitting on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He's got Nick right here, with him, and in this moment Harry can forget about his flight, about his tour, about everything that he's fucked up the last few months. For now, it's just them, and Harry needs it to stay that way, even if he only gets a moment. "I don't want this to end," is what he says. 

"It won't," Nick says. It's either a blatant lie, since the sex can't last forever, they both have actual jobs, or Nick's not talking about this particular moment. Harry has to bury his face in Nick's neck because he can't breathe. They've never made statements or declarations, preferring to keep things the way they'd always been. At least until Harry turned into a giant arse without noticing. 

"Nick, I --" 

Nick puts a hand over Harry's mouth. "We'll talk later. Kinda in the middle of something just now." He wiggles his hips a bit, pressing against the head of Harry's dick, and Harry groans. "Come on now, I know you know how to do this part." 

He has to laugh at that. He hadn't, once upon a time. Not really. Nick had taught him so many tricks in the beginning, when he was young and eager and oversensitive. They'd spent so many hours, naked against increasingly wrinkled sheets, Nick talking Harry through fingering and blowjobs and rimming, all ways that he could get someone off even though he'd had a hair trigger himself. And thank god for that, since the first time Harry had fucked Nick it had been over in less than a minute. 

Several years later he's better at it now, but he hasn't lost that initial wonder at actually being inside of someone when he pushes in. It takes him a minute to adjust when he does, but Nick is well used to it now and just holds him while he gets his breath back and starts to move. "Is this alright?" 

Nick's hands are in his hair and clutching his arm, and Harry knows he doesn't bruise easily but he wishes he did, so that he could show off the fingerprints tomorrow night, too. He hopes the bite on his neck is good enough to show, at the very least. 

"You're good," Nick tells him. 

Harry grins and pushes Nick's legs up more, bending him nearly in half and increasing his speed. He's not going to last long, so he moves his hips, varying the angle so that he can brush over Nick's prostate. He feels it when he does, Nick tensing and gasping beneath him. 

"Touch yourself," Harry tells him between kisses. The words are almost lost between them, but Nick gets the idea and moves a hand from Harry's hair down between them. His fingers hit against Harry's butterfly as he moves, knuckles scraping over and over as he wanks himself against the rhythm of Harry's thrusts. 

Harry comes first, with a sharp cry against Nick's mouth. He keeps going for a minute longer, as much as he can stand before he gets oversensitive and starts to go soft. Nick hasn't come yet, so Harry carefully pulls out and ties off the condom before moving down to take Nick's cock into his mouth again. Nick slowly unfolds his legs until his heels are digging into Harry's back, and a few minutes later he's coming too, spilling across Harry's lips and down his fingers where they're wrapped around Nick's dick. Harry licks up some of it, but wipes most of it onto a corner of Nick's sheet before moving back up to kiss him. 

They stay silent for a long time, kissing some, but mostly just looking at each other and breathing into the open space between them. Eventually, Nick takes Harry's hand and laces their fingers together, tucking their joined hands against his chest. 

"I'm sorry," Harry says. He could make excuses for the last year, about how much easier it is to move around LA without people following him constantly just because the city itself is spread out so much, about how the weather is so much better out there, about how he's meeting more people that he wants to work with, writing and selling songs, and jumping into the industry as more than just one fifth of a boyband. He doesn't, though. It's not what Nick wants to hear, and it's nothing Harry hasn't told him before. "I'm sorry I left. I didn't mean to." 

"But you did." Nick's quiet again when he answers, but this time it's not the hurt from the conservatory or their usual post-sex whispers. It's somewhere in between, and Harry isn't sure what to do with that. 

"Not forever." It's the truth. As much as Harry loves touring and loves California, it's not _home_. He can't say when he'll be back, but he will. "I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr! [Glitterbootsandyellowshorts](http://glitterbootsandyellowshorts.tumblr.com)


End file.
